Bonds of Blood and Water
by Silver Spider
Summary: What is more difficult: forming the bonds of family or severing them forever? "Bad Guys"-inspired one-shot. Robyn/Dingo Loosely tied to "Nightcaps" and "Altered Paths".


_**Author's Note:**_ Yet another "Bad Guys" Robyn/Dingo fic. Loosely tied to my other two fics "Nightcaps" and "Altered Paths". If you haven't read those, Robyn and Dingo are in an established though still stormy relationship. There's no very specific time frame, but the Redemption Squad had been operating for quite some time. The structure of the story is also a little different from the other two, more linear fics. This one involves an interlace of flashbacks and real time both from Dingo's and Robyn's povs. It's a little similar to the structure of Bad Guys – 3 where the real story overlapped with things from Robyn's past. Enjoy and please review!

**Bonds of Blood and Water**

**By: Silver Spider**

_New York, New York, United States - Present_

She must have been in darkness for a long time, but this darkness had none of the soothing comfort of sleep. It was frightening, like freezing invisible fingers wrapping around her throat, stealing the very breath from her lungs. When the cold and numbness wore off, Robyn almost wished it back again. The anesthesia had just begun to wear off, but already her head and whole body ached, and the pain was only increasing. Robyn forced her eyes open but her vision was blurry. Wherever she was, there was a lot of white. The infirmary in the Redemption Squad's Paris base? She could not make out enough familiar shapes.

She did not have enough time to contemplate it. Her sense of smell was the next to return, and when it did, Robyn nearly retched. The smell of the sterile environment coupled with an assortment of various powerful medications made her want to get up and run to the nearest bathroom. Her head swam, bile rising in rebellion. Far from certain of her strength, she made an attempt to move off the bed until something cold and metallic bite at her right wrist.

A handcuff.

She was handcuffed to the hospital bed.

Not having enough time to contemplate her situation further, Robyn leaned over the edge and emptied what little there was in her stomach all over the clean hospital floor, just barely missing the pair of Versace leather shoes.

"Nice aim," came a male voice that was somehow both light and deadly serious. "Miss... Canmore, is it? Suppose you tell me what you're doing in my city."

_* * * * * * * * * *_

_Paris, France – Two weeks earlier_

It should have bothered her more than it did, but Robyn was becoming more and more accustomed to waking up in a room - and more importantly, bed - other than her own. But somehow over the length of almost a year, she'd come quite to enjoy sharing a bed with Harry Monmouth. The relationship itself was an ill-kept secret within the team. Oh, they remained completely professional at a chaste arm's length during any and all missions and their usual sharp banter never faded, but both had long ago stopped pretending that they kept to their separate quarters.

She awoke on her own minutes before the alarm she'd miraculously remembered to set went off. Reluctantly shifting the arm Dingo had thrown around her in his sleep off, Robyn rolled over and turned off the alarm. The red glowing digits slowly came into focus. 4:53 in the morning. It figured that she had to go the one time she could have enjoyed a nice normal human sleeping schedule. She buried her face back into the pillow with a groan. Apparently the motion did not go unnoticed.

"Thought we were past the point of sneaking out of each others rooms in the middle of the night," Dingo asked, teasing and still more than a little sleepy.

"Not sneaking out," Robyn murmurer, fighting the overwhelming desire to stay with him under the warm covers. "My plane leaves in two hours, and thanks to you, I didn't get to pack anything yet."

"I don't exactly remember you complaining," he threw his arm around her again. "Since when do we rely on public flights, anyway?"

"Since these are personal matters, not Redemption Squad business," forcing herself to untangle his embrace, Robyn slipped out of bed and padded over to the adjacent bathroom, soon followed by the sound of water running from the faucet. She emerged in record time, fully dressed with hair combed back in the practical ponytail she was so fond off. By that time, Dingo too was wide awake and sitting up.

"An' what am I supposed to do meanwhile?" he asked, and Robyn stopped collecting her things long enough to wave her fingers at him innocently. Dingo made a face. "That's real classy, princess."

"I'd kill you," she said sweetly, "but then I'd have to clean up the mess and miss my plane."

"I can come with you, if you want," he offered after a few moments of watching her pack. "Figure I can manage to stay under the radar of New York's finest for that long."

"It's not necessary," she assured him. "I just want to be there when Jason is released and make sure he settles in alright. Then I'm coming right back."

"What? Don't think I'm presentable enough to be introduced to your big brother?"

"Oh it's not that I don't think you're ready to meet Jason. It's that Jason might not be ready to meet you," he gave her a skeptical look. "Shall I regale you with the tale of what he did the last time I brought a man home?"

"When was that?"

"When I was about... sixteen."

"Just tell me there were no sharp objects involved," she laughed, effectively serving to make him very nervous, so Dingo asked a different question, "an' tell me something else."

He waited until she stopped what she was doing and met his gaze.

"Tell me you're going to see just the one brother."

The question hung in the air like a lead weight. Finally Robyn shrugged noncommittally.

"That's the plan."

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Twelve days earlier_

New York City had no nostalgic value for her, but Robyn had to admit that the mid autumn weather did something wonderful to the city. Perhaps it was just her own good mood, though she would have been lying if she said she did not feel a certain amount of anxiety about the reunion. They had spoken a few times since Jason's incarceration and her involvement with the Redemption Squad, but so much had happened since the Hunter's Moon years ago. Robyn feared they may be more strangers than siblings.

But when the gates of Rikers Penitentiary opened, any doubts she had were swept away as her brother emerged, taking his first steps of freedom. Robyn stared in awe. He was walking. Leaning heavily on a pair of crutches and looking more than a little worse for wear, but he was walking again. Smiling, she strode up to him, and they embraced.

"You look well, big brother," she commented.

"Physical therapy and couple years worth of free time does wonders," Jason agreed returning the smile. "Though I can't say I'm a big fan of these." He nodded at the crutches.

"So leave them," Robyn advised, offering her arm. "I won't let you fall."

Jason hesitated, either unsure of himself or still a little too proud to accept the help. After a moment though, he nodded and, taking a deep breath, steadied himself before tossing the crutches aside. He gripped her forearm for support, and Robyn patiently waited while he took a few experimental steps. It took them a while, but eventually they made it to her rental car.

"Where are we going?" Jason's seatbelt clicked in place.

Robyn just grinned as she took her place in the driver's seat. "Your new apartment."

"I have an apartment?" he asked in disbelief.

"What did you think I was doing for the last two days? Sight seeing? I told you over the phone I'd take care of everything," she reached to start the ignition, but he stopped her.

"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I really am glad you're here, Robyn. Thank you for looking out for me."

"I'm just returning the favor," his sister forced a smile and started the car. "You've been looking out for me for years."

Neither of them said anything about the other person who had been there.

After spending years in a prison cell, Jason would have probably been impressed with any apartment, but this one was particularly nice and the view over Central Park certainly did not hurt. It was a two-bedroom, spacious and fully furnished, with wide clear windows to let in the sun. It was also on the top floor, so for all his bravado, he was glad the building came with an elevator.

"You did all this in two days?" he asked after Robyn helped him to the couch and moved to the kitchen. "Even stocked the fridge."

"And I bought tea. The real thing, not this bagged American junk," she said proudly, holding out a tin can of dried leaves. Robyn put the kettle on the stove and returned to the living room, taking a seat on the smaller sofa at his left.

"So, how _did_ you do all this?" he probed again.

"Oh the apartment's been ready for a while," she replied. "Since just after I learned when you'd be released. Furniture was set up last week. All I did when I flew in was go grocery shopping."

"And the money that paid for this place? I know it wasn't my share of the Canmore money."

"No," Robyn agreed. "It was mine. Well, in part mine, in part Jonny's."

"Jon's?" his eyes widened. "Have you talked to him recently? Has he..."

"No," she shook her head. "He's still... refusing be our brother. I discovered a year ago that his share of the money was divided and funneled into our accounts. All traces of Jon Canmore are as good as gone."

"Do you believe that?" Jason watched her carefully. Robyn rubbed her temple.

"I don't know. To tell you the truth, I'm not thrilled about touching that money either."

"Is that why you spent a good," he eyed the tall ceilings, "million or so on this place?"

The whistle of the tea kettle saved her from answering. Robyn quietly pored the tea returned, handing a cup to him and taking her own back to the sofa. After seeing him for the first time in years, she'd had a hope that perhaps it would be alright. However it was becoming evident that it was difficult to reestablish communication with a person with whom all one had in common for the longest time was a common enemy and a common hatred. The hatred was gone, and it left them both with a void that was difficult to fill.

"Can we please talk about something pleasant, Jason?" she pulled her legs up on the sofa. "What are you planning to do with your new freedom? Are you going to remain in the States?"

"For a while at least," Jason nodded. "You're going to laugh when I tell you."

"Oh?" her curiosity was peaked.

"Well, you missed the gargoyle hysteria of just after the Hunter's Moon. There were a lot of debates on television. Mostly ridiculous uninformed fear-driven arguments, but there was one man who came to their defense. A professor of medieval European studies at NYU who wrote that book "Gargoyles in Celtic Legends", Lennox McDuff. He agreed to let me do research with him."

"Lennox McDuff?" Robyn tried to hide her surprise. "What are the chance a man ends up with a name like that?"

"I guess his parents were fans of the Scottish play. We've spent our lives learning how to kill gargoyles without ever really knowing anything about them. This man seems to know what he's talking about. Maybe he can teach me something."

"Maybe," Robyn held her tongue. This Mr. McDuff had been a small blip on the squad's radar. He had not actually done anything, so there had never been a reason for further investigation, but one had to wonder about a man who, more likely than not, knew more about gargoyles than any other human on the planet and who held a sizable amount of wealth on a college professor's salary including the true Mona Lisa painting. She made a mental note to look into the matter when time permitted.

She stayed with Jason for six more days to help him get situated. The evening before Robyn was to return to Paris, they went out for a slow walk in Central Park. Jason really had made amazing progress. He joked that he felt like an old man, having to hold her arm for balance, but he was not really complaining. The fact that he was walking at all was a miracle.

"So," Jason began casually. "You're leaving tonight, and all we've talked about for a week is me. I know you're insisting on being secretive and I don't want you to feel like I'm interrogating you, but I'd feel better if you told me something."

"Oh, do you want some ice cream?" she brightened abruptly. "I saw a track on the last path."

"Come on, Robyn. I'm not five years old. You can't distract me with ice cream."

"_I_'m distracted by ice cream," she gave him an innocent look, then, seeing that he was not buying it, dropped the act. "What do you want to know?"

"You don't have to give me any details," Jason promised. "But you're my sister, and I love you. I just want to know if you're alright. Are you at peace with whatever it is you're doing? Are you safe? Happy?"

He was beginning to look tired, so she guided him to the nearest bench and took a seat next to her brother. Robyn considered the questions. A part of her wished she wished she could tell him everything about her work in the Redemption Squad, but the organization had to remain hidden, for now even from Jason. Robyn wondered how much she would really tell him if she did not have explicit orders not to say anything. She was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but deep down a part of her still did not quite trust Jason.

"I can't swear I'm always safe," her brother clearly did not like that answer, "but my current job keeps my conscious clean, and yes, for the first time in quite a while, I _am_ happy."

The admission came so freely, it surprised even her. It surprised Jason as well, but he was quick to catch on.

"Oh I see!" Jason laughed. "Alright, what's his name?" She opened her mouth to object, but he quickly held up his hands. "Don't even try to deny it, little sister. I've known you since the day you were born."

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "His name is Harry. We've been together for about a year."

"A year? I think that just might be the longest relationship you've ever maintained."

"I wonder why," she gave him a pointed look, and he shrugged innocently. "He's a good man, Jason. I don't have to hide my past from him, and he doesn't bring needless drama into my life. A refreshing change, don't you think?"

"And is this Harry a part of whatever you're involved with these days?" he should have known better than to ask and realized it when she said nothing in reply. "Alright, I won't pry. If he makes you happy, I suppose that's all that matters. Just make sure I get to meet this man before I hear the words 'Uncle Jason'."

He must have hit a nerve, because Robyn took a sudden fascinated interest in the ground. When she did look back up, Jason could tell she was trying to pretend like it had not bothered her but was failing miserably.

"No hurry then," she said, "because that's not about to happen. Now or ever. I won't pass this on. This... legacy of blood."

Jason watched her carefully. Obviously she was not at all comfortable with the topic.

"Who exactly are you trying to protect? Me? Jon? Generation of Canmores long gone. It's your choice how you raise any children you may have, and I don't believe you would ever teach them hate."

"Not intentionally, but I have to wonder..."

"Wonder about what?"

"I still call myself 'Hunter'."

"Symbols can change their meaning," Jason wanted to ask what would make her use that name again, but he suspected she would no more answer that then any other questions about her work. "For what it's worth, I think you would be a great mother."

"Because I did such a great job with Jonny," her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You were fourteen. Jon was seven. It was never supposed to be your job to raise him. And if we're assigning blame, I think most of the privilege for that one is mine. By the way, are you planning to go see him?"

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Three days earlier_

Maybe he should have been nervous about being back in New York, but the idea that he could be arrested had only crossed Dingo's mind long enough to acquire a pair of sunglasses and Yankees baseball cap. New York was a busy city as it was and ever since the gargoyles were outed to the public, the citizens of the Big Apple felt like they had bigger problems to worry about than a felon who had not been seen in years. As long as he did not go looking for trouble, Dingo was sure he could be in and out of the city without too much hassle.

And trouble was the last thing he was looking for. Nearly three days was far too long a time for Robyn to not so much as pick up her cell. If it was anyone else, he would not have thought twice, but the leader of the Redemption Squad was nothing if not responsible. If she had decided to stay longer, she would have let the team know. She would have let him know. Dingo hated how nervous the whole thing made him. He was still hoping she would suddenly show up with a perfectly reasonable explanation for her absence and berate him for dragging the rest of the team across the Atlantic for no reason.

Not that the rest of the team was of terribly big use. Yama was stone during the day, and the places Fang could go were also extremely limited. Matrix had searched nearly every network in the city but found not mention of her. So while the other three laid low, Dingo decided to check with the most obvious person. He was a little surprised to find that Jason Canmore was actually listed in the phone book. He was even more surprised to find an ex-convict in a building that overlooked Central Park. Clearly being descendant from royalty came with benefits.

The whole walk there and ride up the elevator, Dingo wondered how he was supposed to introduce himself. Robyn had never explicitly said anything, but he strongly suspected that she had not shared much of the details of her involvement in the Redemption Squad with either of her brothers, even Jason. Had she said anything about him? It did not bode well for any future interaction he may have with the man if the first time they met Dingo was there to tell him his sister was missing.

It was a little too late to consider that when he was knocking on the door and facing a tall dark haired man with a cane in his right hand. There was a family resemblance, Dingo noted, if only just around the eyes. Still, for good measure, he asked.

"You Jason Canmore?"

"Yes," the reply came cautiously.

"I'm looking for your sister Robyn. Is she here?"

Jason stared at him more than likely wondering why on earth a strange Australian man would be looking for his sister. The a light bulb seemed to go off in his head.

"You wouldn't happen to be Harry by any chance?" he guessed, his Scottish accent seeping through.

"Harry Monmouth," _So she had said say something._ The two men shook hands.

"Come in," Jason opened the door all the way to let him through.

Dingo entered, feeling a little awkward about standing in the middle of the living room while Jason slowly made his way to the nearest bar stool. He felt for the man. From what Robyn had told him, he understood that her older brother was fiercely proud and independent. Dingo could see that even now, regardless of the awkward way Jason carried himself. It could not have been easy to feel so weak.

"Robyn was here for about a week," the older Canmore told him, lines of worry already beginning to crease his forehead. "Did something happen?"

"Don't know. She was supposed to be back three days ago. Figured maybe she decided to stay longer but got nothin' when I tried her cell."

"We haven't kept in closer touch recently, so I didn't anything was wrong when she didn't call. This doesn't sound like her," Jason rubbed his forehead. "What kind of trouble could she be in?"

"Plenty," Dingo grumbled. "Sheila's got a knack for it." Seeing Jason's eyes go wide, he realized he must have said too much. "I'm guessin' you're a little out of the loop."

"More than a little. What has she been doing?" Jason demanded, but Dingo set his jaw which did nothing to improve either of their temperaments. "Tell me what's going on with my sister."

"Look," Dingo chose his words carefully. "You're her brother and you want what's best for her. I get that. I respect it. But if she hasn't told you anything about what we do, she must have her reasons. Whatever they are, it up to her to decide what to tell you and when. Suffice t' say, yeah, she could be in real trouble."

He'd dealt with Robyn's temper enough to be able to tell that her brother now looked like he wanted to put his head through the nearest wall. The silent anger eventually died down, and Jason nodded in acceptance. He reached for the phone across the bar.

"I have a contact in the police department. Maybe they heard something," seeing the hesitant look on his face, he added, "don't worry. She knows how to be discreet."

Dingo nodded and drummed his fingers on the bar table surface, impatient and eager to be doing anything else but wait while Jason talked to whoever it was. A thought that he had not wanted to consider earlier crept back into his mind.

"What are the chances she went to see your brother?"

Jason paused, the phone halfway to his ear. "Knowing Robyn, I'd say pretty good."

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Six days earlier_

She said good bye to Jason with four hours before her flight. The roads to JFK Airport were bound to be packed on a Monday afternoon and she still needed to return the rental car. However sitting within it at a red light in the ever jammed New York street, Robyn had the distinct impression she was running away, and she fully recognized why that was. If she did not see Jon at least once throughout her stay in New York, she would feel like a complete coward.

Harry was vehemently against the idea. Jason had been hesitant at best on the subject. No doubt he would be trying to get through to their brother himself in the future, but he would not be happy if she went. She did not know if Jason thought Jon was capable of harming her, but Robyn doubted it. Whatever he was, he was still her little brother. The worst he could do was make her cry.

Again.

Yanking the car into a sharp right turn much to the annoyance of other drivers, she took the smaller side street. Robyn had just enough time to turn the rental into one of the local branches, walk the few blocks to the Quarrymen headquarters, and then take the train to the airport. At least she would be able to say she tried, though Robyn had no idea how this confrontation was supposed to turn out any different from the first one.

She was still considering it by the time she stepped foot in Castaway's office.

"Hello, Jonny."

He spared her only half a glance. If he was surprised to see her, his face did not show it.

"What do you want, Robyn?"

"Just to see how you are. It's been years," she carefully hid her hurt.

"And clearly you didn't care enough to come by before, so what do you want now?"

"Last time I was here you brushed me off for the sake of a pointless vendetta," she reminded him. "I don't want to fight, Jonny. I just wanted to know if you're alright."

"Never better. Is that all?"

His court responses left her with a sense of helplessness. The only thing she could think of to discuss with him was also the one she did not know if she should. It was ironic. Jason had not wanted her to see Jon, and here she was, wondering if it would be safer for him if she said nothing. The thought was morbid. Protecting one brother from the other and not at all in the direction she would have once predicted. What had the world come to?

"Jason has been released from Rikers."

That _did_ illicit a response. For an instance the shadow of guilt flashed across his face, but the cold demeanor returned just as quickly. "Ah, so it's Jason you came to see."

All those years of peace, of working together as a team, and now this... was it even right to call it sibling rivalry? Robyn wanted to move closer, to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, wanted to demand that the monster he had become return her precious Jon to her. As it was, she had to settle for another attempt at trying to talk him away from the destructive path he had chosen.

"I came to see if there was anything left of my little brother," Robyn replied. "I want you to know how sorry I am. I'm older. When Jason set us on this fool's quest, I should have said 'no'. I should have done more to protect you, should have taken you away."

"Why? Because the demon deserved to get away with our father's murder?"

"No!" _How dare he bring that up?_ "Because it wasn't worth another single drop of Canmore blood. It still isn't."

"I'm not Canmore anymore," he reminded her.

"But you were, and you can be again," she urged. "I still remember how you clung to me, begged me to stop."

"I was weak then."

"You were a child. And you were right. If Jason and I had listened to you, the three of us would still be a family. Nothing... None of this would have happened if we had chosen to walk away." _Jason would be whole, you'd still be our brother, and I..._

"If we had walked away from our destiny then, the demon would have wiped every man, woman, and child off the face of the planet with that virus years ago," Castaway interrupted her train of thought. "Or have you forgotten?"

Robyn did not know how to argue with that. Maybe he was right, or maybe the Manhattan clan would have discovered what Demona was plotting and stopped her regardless. She was tired of guessing games, and it was becoming apparent that her trip there had been pointless.

"Jason is in the city," she told him, assuming that since their elder brother was not hiding, there was no point in being too coy about his whereabouts. "I think he would like to talk to his little brother. If you decide you want to be Jon Canmore again, both of us would welcome you back with open arms, but we'll have nothing to do with John Castaway. I promise you that."

Robyn was a full three blocks away from the Quarrymen building before she allowed herself to release the breath she'd been holding. At least she had been right in her earlier assumption; there was something left of Jon in Castaway. Enough not to harm her. At least Robyn had liked to think that was the reason. She did not want to consider the alternative that she was simply no longer important enough for him to care one way or another.

Either way, her nerves were thoroughly rattled by the encounter, and Robyn wanted nothing more than to get back to Paris. Even the nine hour flight was beginning to sound inviting. She was exhausted enough to sleep even in airplane seats. _Doesn't hurt to fly first class_, she thought wryly, pulling out her ticket to check the time and gate of departure. Then, as she passed an electronics store, a display in the window caught her attention. The televisions were all set to the local news station, and Robyn caught the middle of a breaking story.

"...ongoing attack on the central Cyberbiotics facility in lower Manhattan. Details are yet unknown, but..."

She checked her watch. It would be sunset soon, and New York had its own defenders. _Just go to the airport, get on the plane, and go home_, she told herself. _Cyberbiotics is none of your concern._ Except that eventually most things became Redemption Squad's concern. She could always take the next available flight. Making a decision, Robyn changed direction and began to walk to lower Manhattan.

A little reconnaissance never hurt anyone.

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Two days earlier_

Jason had promised to call him as soon as he heard something from his contact in the NYPD, but Dingo was not one for sitting idol and decided to pay the other Canmore brother a visit. The elder had advised caution. Jason had been out of touch with Jon for years, but from what Robyn had told him any confrontation with their younger brother was bound to be difficult. Making one last promise to himself to keep his temper in check no matter what, Dingo turned the knob on the heavy door marked with the hammer that was the symbol of the Quarrymen and entered.

If his initial and maintained opinion of Jason was that the man was worthy of respect, Jon gave him the absolute opposite impression. Sitting behind the large desk, he looked to Dingo like an oily business man, with his slicked back hair and suit. It was hard to believe that this man was only in his mid twenties, a full dozen years his junior. When he had walked in, the blond haired man had been talking to two hammer-wielding thugs but he dismissed them when he saw him.

"I'm John Castaway," he said in an eerily pleasant voice, rising from his seat, "You're a little late for the meeting , but don't worry about it. New recruits are always welcomed. If you like..."

"Sorry, no. Not here for that," Dingo interrupted. "I'm after a different kind of quarry."

"Oh?" Castaway leaned back in his chair.

"I'm looking for Robyn Canmore."

The pleasantry immediately vanished from the man's face, his features turning hard.

"This is an organization that hunts demons, not other hunters," he said courtly, sitting back down and refocusing his attention back on the papers in front of him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a very busy man. Please don't waste my time again."

"Your sister's gone missing, and you don't seem to give a rat's ass," Dingo accused.

"I'm afraid you're confused. I have no sister."

Any motivation he had to keep his cool was instantly lost, and Dingo found himself shoving the startled man down on the table, his head firmly pressed between the hard surface and his fist.

"Listen here," his voice held a dangerous edge. "I'm pretty sure she came through here a few days ago, and now she's missing. So you're gonna talk, or I'm gonna test out one of those hammers you're so proud of on your thick skull."

He released him and allowed him a moment to catch his breath. The man glared icy daggers at him, but then calmly straightened and brushed imaginary dust of his suit.

"She was here," Castaway confirmed, "and left just as she came."

"When?"

"Three days ago."

So Jason's suspicions had been correct. Robyn had gone to see their younger brother right before she was due to fly back to France. That did not exactly surprise Dingo, although the fact that Castaway was the last person to see her was disconcerting at best. Still, he did not think the man was lying when he said he did not know what happened to her afterwards. John Castaway did not seem to care for anything or anybody besides his misbegotten mission.

"You don't want me to let you know once I find her," it was more a statement then a question.

"I have other concerns."

"Wow," Dingo shook his head in disbelief. "You're really a piece of work, mate." He started for the door, but then turned back after a second though. Resting both palms flat on the table, he leaned closer in closer and in a quiet but dangerous voice said.

"I'm leavin', and for both our sakes, I hope I never have to see your miserable face again. 'Cause I know you're her brother and all, but if I find out you hurt her – now or ever – I won't hesitate to put two in your head. You got me?"

"Perfectly," the man replied coolly.

"Good. Glad we understand each other."

He had never been happier to be out of any other building than he was to leave the Quarrymen headquarters. If he stayed another minute, Dingo has a strong suspicion that he might have very well followed through with his desire to make the youngest Canmore a bloody mural on the wall. The would might be a better place for it, but Robyn certainly would not be pleased. Assuming he found her, of course.

He looked down at his watch. Sunset was within the hour. He had just enough time to make it back to Casablanca Hotel and check in with the others. Maybe they had heard something.

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Yesterday_

It felt odd to Dingo to be sitting in the hotel's conference room without Robyn at the head of the table laying out the plan for their next mission on the monitor. Casablanca Hotel was the Redemption Squad's temporary headquarters whenever they needed to stay in New York City, which recently had not been too often. He straightened in his seat and tried to tune back into what Matrix was saying about his findings. It was well into the night, and Dingo was running on forty-eight hours and counting without sleep. The weariness was beginning to get to him. For perhaps the hundredth time, he checked his cell.

Nothing.

"In my search of the media archives of all documented events within the city for the last week, I have come across something," Matrix paused. "There is no shortage of chaos here, but one event in particular seems promising. I do not know if this is relevant, but a Cyberbiotics facility was infiltrated five days ago."

All traces of exhaustion suddenly washed away, and Dingo's head snapped up. "That's when she was supposed to fly back. Do you know who hit it?"

"Negative," the AI replied. "I believe the information is being withheld from the media on purpose, though I do not know why."

"Cops don't want a panic," Fang guessed. For once, even he was somber. "How much do you wanna bet boss lady decided to do some digging?"

"Never bet on certainties," Dingo said grimly. "So if she was involved in that, any clue to where she could be now?"

"Have you considered searching the databases of local hospitals?" Yama asked.

"That was the first thing I did," if Matrix was capable of sounding annoyed at such an obvious suggestion, he would have. "There is no mention of anyone matching Hunter's description being brought in recently. I have also cross referenced all of her known aliases. There is nothing."

"So back to square one," the mutate commented.

The rest of the squad fell silent.

"It is four in the morning," Yama finally observed. "The rest of us will continue the search, but I suggested Dingo should get some rest. You have done all you could for now," he told the Australian, and Dingo opened his mouth to protest, but the gargoyle would not have it. "Do not force me to make this an order."

Robyn had long ago appointed Yama her second in command within the Redemption Squad. The gargoyle was levelheaded and clear thinking in a crisis. No one but Fang argued with the decision, but they have also never been in a situation that made him invoke that power before. His obsidian eyes met Dingo's blue ones, silently telling him not to argue. The former mercenary bit his lip but keep quiet.

The meeting adjourned with Fang and Matrix as the first to leave. Dingo started for the door as well until he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder. He stopped and looked at their temporary leader.

"I know we do not not speak of this," the Japanese gargoyle said, "but I want you to know that I do understand that it is difficult for you to be separated from your mate."

"Look, Yama..." the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his romantic relationship with Robyn with anyone else from the squad.

"It is not sympathy I offer," the gargoyle said. "Merely understanding and assurance that all of us _are_ doing everything in our power to bring her back safely. This team would not exist without Hunter. I cannot speak for all, but I owe her my honor. I intend to see that debit repaid."

Coming from Yama, that was the highest praise one could ever expect to hear. Dingo gave him a grateful and tired smile and trotted back up to his room.

He was jolted awake a full five hours later – far longer than he'd meant to allow himself to sleep – by the sharp loud ringing of his cell phone. Fumbling on the nightstand, Dingo finally managed grab it and flipped it open without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Harry, it's Jason Canmore. I think I found her."

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Present_

Her head was still spinning and the vile taste of vomit lingered in her mouth, but Robyn instantly recognized the man. There were very few people in the world who would not have. What she could not figure out was how exactly she ended up up in a hospital, in handcuffs, with David Xanatos standing at her bedside. Masking any outward unease, she drew her brows.

"Am I under arrest?"

"By all rights you should be. I'm no expert," his demeanor was absolutely casual as he rested his right hand on the rounded plastic ledge at the foot of the bed, the other in his pant pocket, "but blowing up a police station sound like a pretty serious offense. Except that Detective Maza can't find a single record connecting your name to it. Want to tell me how that's possible?"

"Not particularly. If I'm not under arrest, I'd like these removed," she yanked on the cuffs.

Xanatos rubbed his bearded chin, as if he was considering denying her request, but after a moment he just shrugged and spread his hands. "It's not like you're really going anywhere in the shape you're in."

He produced a key and unfastened the handcuff around her arm, letting it drop to hang loosely off the side of the bed. Not to seem completely unsympathetic, he filled a plastic cup with water from the tap and offered it to her. Robyn took it, grateful for any way of getting rid of the awful taste. Once she was finished, she set the cup on the small table beside the bed.

"Where am I?"

"Manhattan General," Xanatos replied without missing a beat. "You still haven't answered my question though. One more time, Miss Canmore: what are you doing in New York?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she did her best to sound indignant, "but my brother was recently released from prison. I came to see him."

"Right, your brother Jason," the businessman crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully. "The thing I'm trying to figure out is where does a raid on a Cyberbiotics facility fall into the family reunion. And how would someone like you get involved with the Pack?"

_The Pack?_

Robyn was about to ask what he had been smoking when it came back to her in a rush. It _had_ been the Pack who had attacked the facility, no doubt looking for the latest technology to supplement the two cyborgs and their robotic leader. She remembered Wolf, Jackal, Hyena, some new version of Coyote, and a new member she had never heard of before. The Redemption Squad had yet to tangle with the Pack, but Robyn had done her homework years ago when she had been ordered to recruit Dingo. Subconsciously, she touched the skin around her neck and collar bone. Her fingers found the distinct scars on her flesh; four parallel marks and a fifth that met the others in a V just above her breasts.

"I'm not in league with them," she said sharply.

"I didn't really think you were," Xanatos admitted. "As ridiculously noble as the clan is, I find it hard to believe that they wouldn't have just left you were you were if they thought you were part of the attack. It's not every day even they save the life of a gargoyle hunter."

"Former gargoyle hunter," she corrected, but enough of the old prejudices lingered that Robyn was far from happy about about owing the Manhattan clan her life. She hated that. It made her think of Jon and what the irrational hatred had done to him.

"Really?" Xanatos raised a brow. "Then maybe you'd like to also explain this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her Hunter's mask where the three parallel scars still adorned the front. It was also the first time Robyn had noticed that the rest of her uniform was neatly folded on one of the chairs and that she was wearing a white hospital gown. Because she really did not have a good answer, she diverted his question with one of her own.

"Why the restraints earlier?"

"I was not about to let a hunter – former or otherwise – roam around at nine in the morning."

_What did that have to do with..._ "I'm not at Manhattan General, am I?" Robyn ventured a guess.

"You're at the infirmary in the Eyrie Building," Xanatos looked neither startled nor guilty for being caught in the lie. "You were in pretty bad shape when the clan brought you, but our physician says with some rest you'll be fine. The restraints were simply a precaution to ensure the safety of others who reside here."

"Do I really look like I could take on even one gargoyle, never mind a whole clan?" she asked wryly. She was not downplaying her strength. Robyn really did feel awful.

"Maybe not, but you still haven't given me a straight answer to a single question. It doesn't exactly inspire trust." She pressed her lips in a thin line. "As you like. When you feel like talking, let me know, but I suggest you decide before sunset. I think you'd prefer to talk to me than Goliath." He let that sink in, then turned for the door. "Consider it, Miss Canmore. I'll have Owen bring you some breakfast."

She was asleep again before the tray of food arrived, but awoke again only two and a half hours later. It was almost eleven and the omelet and orange juice were both a lukewarm room temperature. Robyn sniffed. Not that she had expected Xanatos to spike her food, but she found that she had no apatite. After forcing herself to at least drink the juice to regain some strength, she was about to make another attempt at getting up, when the sound of footsteps in the hall caught her attention.

Robyn listened intently. Light steps, most likely a woman's. She looked up just in time to see the tall red head with a fox head tattoo over her right eye standing in the doorway. Xanatos' wife looked like the cat that swallowed the canary, and she was looking directly at Robyn.

"You've been holding out on us," Fox's tone was more mischievous than accusing, like she knew some great secret she was not privy to.

"I have nothing to say," Robyn replied defensibly.

"You don't have to," _Was she... smiling?_ "Dingo's here."

* * * * * * * * * *

_New York, New York, United States – Twenty minutes ago_

"Dingo?"

He was fed up with arguing with the security guard at the bottom of the Eyrie Building when he saw Fox coming out of the elevator. His former teammate looked happy if not slightly surprised to see him. They shared a quick hug.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Jason called me, told me you had Robyn. Is that true?"

Fox, who was not easily startled, blinked.

"I just came down to tell the guard to let Jason Canmore in when he arrived. Detective Maza called and told us to expect them both. His sister _is_ here, but what's _your_ connection to them?" a thought seemed to suddenly strike her. "You're not back with the Pack, are you?"

"The Pack?" his eyes went wide. "What do those losers have to do with anythin'?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'. Let's talk on the way up, okay? I'll fill you in on everything."

By the time the long ride up the elevator was over, Dingo was fuming. Fox must have noticed but did not comment. He could tell that she was glossing away a lot of details, but she also assured him that Robyn would be alright, so with a great deal of effort he forced down his anger.

"Your turn," Fox said after she finished. "How do you know the Canmore woman? Last time I saw you, you were gearing up to be the hero of Down Under."

" 's a long story," Dingo waved her off. "All I can tell you is that we're the good guys now. I know it doesn't exactly satisfy your curiosity, but just take my word for it."

"Look, it's not that I doubt you," she told him. "Her brother vouches for her, and Detective Maza for him. But David's not thrilled about having a hunter under our roof without at least some answers."

"Then ask 'im to let me take her back with me before sunset, if he's so worried about his other tenants," she did not look happy. "Come on, you owe me. Call it payment for cleanin' up your mess with Matrix years back."

She must have seen something in his expression, because she suddenly began to giggle uncontrollably. Caught off guard, Dingo quickly grew annoyed as he waited for her to get it all out. Fox covered her mouth and tried to regain her composure.

"Oh, Dingo, I never thought I'd see the day. So tell me," her green eyes sparkled, "is she a natural blond?"

"Fox!"

"What?"

"Are you bloody finished?" the ex-mercenary demanded.

"Okay, sorry," a few last giggles still broke loose before she sobered. "I'm sorry. Don't worry about it. I'll talk to David."

When they got to the infirmary, Fox held up a hand telling Dingo to wait outside for a moment while she went in first. She left him in the hall for about ten minutes until he was tired of waiting and went in anyway. Dingo did not know what he expected to see, but when he entered the room, Robyn looked thoroughly shell-shocked and Fox's earlier jovial mood was gone as well replaced with a mixture of confusion and something else.

Whatever conversation was going on before he entered ceased immediately, though as Fox walked back towards the door, a look passed between the two women he could not quite read. He did not care about any of that now. His eyes locked with Robyn's. It was not like he had never seen her with cuts and bruises from battle. Being leader of the Redemption Squad was not exactly a hazard-free occupation. Dingo fully recognized and accepted that much, but this situation was fundamentally different from anything he had ever faced before.

Neither of them had ever been particularly comfortable with a great deal of open affection in public, but when he sat down on the edge of the bed, culled the side of her pale face, and took her hands in his, words were not necessary. Robyn closed her eyes for a long moment then exhaled and squeezed his fingers.

"I'm alright," she assured him, though her usual solid wall of strength was nowhere in sight.

"By whose definition?" Dingo tried not to sound angry, but he could not help it. "Bloody hell, woman. What were you thinking?" he touched the still-fresh scars that began at the curve of her neck. Robyn could not help but wince, and he drew back, as a fresh wave of guilt for causing her more pain washed over him.

"Wolf did that."

"What's a hunter without a few scars?" she tried to laugh it off, but Dingo was not buying it.

"They won't scar," Fox promised, still standing at the door. "We have a very good doctor."

"Weren't you gonna go talk to your husband?" Dingo asked pointedly.

"Going," Fox rolled her eyes. "I'll send your brother up when he gets here," she told Robyn and quietly closed the door on her way out.

"Jason's coming?" the Scottish woman looked up at Dingo when they were alone. He nodded in affirmation, and she sighed. "This isn't how I wanted the two of you to meet."

"Oh, we've met," he assured her. "Jason's how I knew you were here." When she gave him a questioning look, he elaborated. "I thought maybe you decided to hang out in the States a while longer, so I checked with him. He called Maza who called Xanatos, or some variation on that order. He's quite a man, your big brother. Wish I could say I'm as impressed with the other one."

"You saw Jonny, too?" she looked mildly horrified to say the least.

"Yeah," Dingo did not even want to think about Castaway. "Don't worry. He's still breathin' . Can't say that the Pack will be for much longer though."

If her posture had relaxed at all since his arrival, she instantly stiffened at his words. Drawing her hands out if his, Robyn straightened in bed.

"Harry," her look was that of intense concern. "You're not seriously thinking of going after them. Only one of us is allowed to be stupid about this, and I already used up that card."

"Plenty more in that deck," he muttered.

"Forget them," some of her commanding tone had returned though it was tinged with an ill-disguised fear. "Tell me about the squad. What have I missed?"

With some reluctance, Dingo moved off the bed and pulled up a chair. He told her that the other three members of the Redemption Squad were also in New York, that Fang was on his best behavior at the moment, and that Yama had proven himself a capable leader in her absence.

"A successful field test, then," she nodded approvingly.

"We coulda done without it," he was still having a hard time keeping his temper in check.

"I appreciate the concern, but, really, I'll be fine," he did not look like he heard her. "I hope you're not blaming yourself. They're not your personal responsibility just because you ran with them years ago. I don't see your friend Fox terribly broken up about any of this."

It was a poor comparison, and both of them knew it. The conversation had only distracted Dingo from his anger but did nothing to subside it. He only had to look at Robyn to clearly see Wolf's claws at her throat. She was lucky not to have been hurt worse or killed. He should have insisted on going with her to New York. Fingers digging into the arms of the chair, he pushed himself up.

"Be back later."

"Harry, don't even think about it!"

He did not listen as he brushed past a bewildered Jason who had just arrived and opened the door. Robyn looked up at her brother, eyes pleading.

"Jason, stop him, please!"

Dingo was almost to the elevators when the other man's slow, uneven footsteps sounded behind him.

"I can't run after you, you know," came Jason's voice, and he briefly wondered if the guilt trip strategy was something Robyn had learned from her brother or the other way around. Both seemed perfectly adapt at it. Reluctantly, he stopped, but stubbornly waited for Jason to catch up to him instead of turning around.

"I'm past the point where I expect any straight answers," the eldest Canmore said when they were face to face, "and I don't know why Robyn's so upset, but if you can help that, I suggest you better get to it."

"You don't understand," Dingo shook his head. "You don't know what happened. It's my past, and it needs to be dealt with."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Are you somehow responsible for this?"

"He's not," the men turned to see Fox coming down the perpendicular hallway, "any more than I am. Someone he loves was hurt, and he feels the need to sink his teeth into something. That's all."

"_Is_ that all? Revenge?" Jason looked at him hard, then pointed back in the direction of the infirmary. "Now I know why Robyn is so scared. Listen to me very carefully. I am going to go speak with Elisa, and by the time I come back, this _will_ be resolved. I have a fairly good opinion of you thus far. Do _not_ make my sister cry and spoil that."

The Australian looked at Fox for support, but she just shrugged. "Better listen to him."

But when he returned to Robyn's room, Dingo could not bring himself to face her with so much anger still boiling in his gut. The feeling was mutual, because she would not look at him either as she brushed away unshed tears. Even without seeing the fury on her face, he would have known she was angry because her Scottish accent was heavier than usual.

"You're not going to do this," her tone was absolutely adamant. "You're not going to go out there and get yourself killed. I've lost nearly every man in my life to vengeance. My father, my little brother, and I came close to loosing Jason. I will not let you go out there and get yourself killed as well. My child will not suffer the pain of loosing its father the way lost mine."

Neither could be sure if she had meant to let it slip but once the truth was out, the weight that had settled on her chest ever since Fox had told her the news just before Dingo had first entered was lifted. Finally looking up at him, Robyn saw that suddenly all the fight seemed to go out of him as well. Dingo slowly moved halfway onto the bed and took her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I love you. Please forgive me."

No longer gripped with the fear of loosing him to his anger or to revenge, Robyn sighed contentedly and rested her head against his shoulder.

"If I sleep for a little while longer, will you stay with me?" he nodded, and she yawned. "Wake me sometime before sunset."

* * * * * * * * * *

Because the only clothes of Robyn's that had survived the trip were part of her uniform, Fox had gladly offered some of her own things for the other woman to wear out. Dingo waited patiently at the door while Robyn and Jason said their good byes for the second time in the lobby of the Eyrie Building. He could not hear exactly what they were saying, and at one point when Robyn went to hug her brother, he thought she also whispered something to him. Jason looked startled for a moment then nodded.

They got into the car, and Dingo was about to head back to Casablanca Hotel when he caught the dark look on her face.

"What's wrong?"

Robyn only sighed and shook her head. "I told Jason if he were to ever speak with Jon, he should not to say anything about the baby. I just hate that I feel like I have to do that."

"Yeah, well, better safe than sorry," he did not add that if Castaway were ever to go near his child, it would be over his dead body. "Right now, don't worry about anything. Just think of something nice. Like what we're gonna name her."

"Her?" Robyn raised a brow, amused. "That's funny, because mother's intuition tells me it's going to be a boy."

"Nope," Dingo grinned confidently as he pulled the car out. "Definitely a girl. You'll see."

_**Author's End Note:**_ Okay so I'm not usually a fan of spawning a bunch of OC kids even for canon couples, but in this case it _is_ canon. Greg Weisman said in the past that Robyn and Dingo's descendants, the Monmouths, will be at odds with the Castaways, John's descendants. Which means they would have had to have at least one child. So some version of this or another would be canon ^_^ I have two more short (yes, short) fics in mind for these two, but I really should be getting back to "Symphony of Angels". See you there!


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